by L. J. Woods
“Cock,” Isaac finishes anyway, turning to the server with a smile. My leg in his hold, his fingers walk along my skin as my thighs clench.
I try to pull my foot away but Isaac’s grip tightens. The server grins at Isaac, my stomach tightening when he gives her those charming eyes.
I’m about to order an egg-white omelette when Isaac speaks up first. “I know it’s not on the menu, but I know Chef Diaz will make it.” He smiles. “So we’ll have a few orders of Pan de Mallorca, Quesito and Tostadas.” My head whips to him but he’s already eyeing me. “What? Thought you of all people would like Puerto Rican.”
My head falls to the side. “How did you—”
“You can’t hide who you are.”
My cheeks heat, his eyes boring into my insides. “Well, who I am was mostly rice and eggs for breakfast. Not this fancy stuff.” How he manages to order all that in a place like this is beyond me.
“So it’s time for an upgrade.” His smile widens.
The server clears her throat. “Is that everything?”
“Love your skirt,” I finally say, Isaac’s gesture leaving a smile on my face. She gives me a stink-eye before she walks away. And I totally hear her scoff.
My brows furrow before I shrug. “Well, she must be having a rough morning.” That’s when it hits me, I’m not. Assignments and narcissistic mother aside, this morning has actually been great.
“So, did Cassandra tell you my dad’s Puerto Rican or did you take a lucky guess?” I ask.
“Research. But I knew you were different when I met you.”
“Different? Wow, way to sound like a racist prick. Didn’t know a Puerto Rican mom and a dad from Goa makes me different.”
He chuckles at my response. “Eden’s easy to get lost in and I figured you could use something to remind you of who you are.”
“Not one of you?”
“Hell, I’m not one of me. My mom might’ve been white but whenever the boys get in trouble, I’m the one that gets the blame.”
“The black kid.” I’m about to ask what that’s like. Eden Gardens is surprisingly diverse but you can’t hide from systematic racism. “By the way, your hair looks better when it’s natural.” He changes the topic before I can.
“Hey, some Puerto Ricans have blonde hair.”
“Yeah, but you don’t.”
The server plunks down a few plates on the table and Isaac requests a bottle of scotch. She nods before she glares at me and I yell a thanks as she saunters away.
Isaac chuckles, leaning back in my seat, my foot still in his lap like it’s something we always do. “You’re not bothered by her?”
“Should I be?”
He shrugs. “Most girls in Eden would be ready to sink their claws into her for looking at me like that on a date.” I stall, the word date lingering in the air more than his comment about Eden girls. Like he sees the gears moving in my head, he clears his throat. “A Reverse Parent-Trap date, I mean. Girls usually don’t take kindly to other girls I’ve fucked.”
My head straightens. “You’ve fucked her?”
“They don’t call me a playboy for no reason, baby.”
“So why are you a playboy and I’m a slut? Women like sex. It doesn’t make us slutty for knowing what we want. And what’s worse? I’m a slut whether I fuck someone or not. I’m a slut for simply wearing what the fuck I want to wear. But you? You get to slang your dick around like a goddamn buffet and people praise you for it.”
A beat, his eyes wandering from my eyes to my lips. “So … you mad ‘cause I fucked her?”
My nostrils flare. “Seriously? That’s what you think?”
“Don’t worry. It was nothing like this morning.” He winks. “Or last night.”
I chuck my napkin across the table as the server returns with a fancy bottle. She twirls her hair, looking at Isaac when she asks, “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”
“Actually,” I pipe up, flashing her a huge grin. “Can I have a Cafe con Leche martini?”
She blinks. “I don’t know what that is.”
“Well, you better get started.” I keep that smile on my face and with the way her mouth twists, it’s easy. “It can be a little complicated for some.”
Isaac laughs when she walks away with another huff. “Thought you were trying to be good.”
“I’ll be good when you are.” That makes him laugh again, his rolling chuckles making the butterflies go wild. “So, you were saying?”
We get to talking about how my mom’s fucking with him as the food arrives. To be honest, I’m not surprised. It’s not the worst thing she’s done but Cassandra Lyon always has a way of getting the upper hand.
“You think breaking them up will get you off?” I ask, taking a bite out of a pastry. “For good?”
He nods. A firm one. “She’s the one with the evidence.”
“The one you thought I gave her.”
“Turns out.” His finger trails up my leg again, goosebumps on my thighs. “You’re not as bad as I thought, Lyon.”
“Wish I could say the same for you.”
“You don’t like the Johnson, baby?” he winks.
Wish I could say I didn’t but I really, really do. That doesn’t mean I don’t have my questions. “Why’d you leave yesterday? After you—”
“Fucked you into oblivion?” The server drops a plate of tostadas hard on the table and I have to hide my smirk behind my glass.
Did he say that on purpose?
Don’t be stupid.
“Left me for Hera Tsang to find me naked on the table,” I clarify when the server is a safe enough distance. God … I’m such a basic bitch. I’ve never been jealous over any guy. So why do I get this way with him?
He does that thing where his tongue slips between his lips as he sits back in his chair and I hate that it makes my face heat. And I hope he doesn’t see it.
“That must have been a sight,” he chuckles like this is funny. When my lips flatten he straightens up, those fiery eyes sparkling under the dim light. “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Bullshit.”
His brows furrow. “You looked beautiful laying there. I’m not apologizing for giving you the D until you passed the fuck out.” Did he just call me beautiful? Did it just get harder to breathe? “Besides, it was better no one saw us leave together. I’m on trial, remember? The one that you—”
“So, I’m your scapegoat?” Now I’m throwing a pastry across the table.
He dodges it. “You’re a good fuck.”
“And you’re an asshole.”
“I am,” he smirks. And fuck he looks cute with that dimple appearing in his smile. “Speaking of which, Hera fucked around with my dad back in the day. Want me to remind her?”
I hate that it crosses my mind for a second. “You’re on trial for murder. I don’t think blackmailing the school staff will help your case if that got out.”
“Look at you caring about your big brother.” He brings his glass to his lips but that doesn’t hide his smirk.
“Ew. You’re not my brother.”
“I will be if we don’t break our parents up. And since Milf Lyon has a certain piece of evidence, I’ll be in jail if we don’t.” He knocks back his drink, slamming it on the table.
“Where did you get that from?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder. “Is it hers? Your ex’s?” I’m hoping that this bond I’m feeling between us will help.
But my foot falls to the floor with a thud.
Shit.
His fist tightens around his glass, knuckles going white and he just stares at it while I’m too afraid to say anything else.
The clatter of the kitchen and diners sounds so much louder and it feels like I’m a slug moving through time.
Then he finally speaks. “It’s hers.”
Seventeen
Lexi
I’m not so hungry anymore.
Swallowing hard on the tostada in my mouth, the diners blur away.
“It’s hers.”
He looks up. “You think I did it?” Meeting his eyes, my mouth gets drier the longer he keeps that menacing stare. “Figures. People only see what they want to see.”
That’s not a confirmation. “What’s that supposed to mean?” My brows furrow, frustrated by his actions. The hot and cold. The push and pull. “I don’t understand why you won’t answer the simple question.” Taking a long sip of my drink helps to calm my nerves. “Did you do it? It's yes or no, baby.”
“Just because you love my cock stuffed deep in your cunt doesn’t mean I have to answer any of your questions. Not a single one. So, let’s make one thing clear, baby.” He throws his napkin on his plate, rising from his seat. “I will make you understand. That I promise.” He throws a wad of cash on the table, kicking his chair to the side. “We’re done here.” He heads towards the doors.
With a stiff body, my hands grip the table as questions swirl through my head.
Is he leaving me here?
Is it over?
Are we over?
What even are we?
“If you’re not in my car in three minutes…” His voice lands by my ear, making my shoulders rise. “I’m leaving without you.”
Relief lifts off my chest but my heart still pounds. He’s not leaving without me but our nice breakfast is definitely over.
Should I call him on his bullshit? He needs to know I’m not some mannequin who moves on demand.
So why do I push myself away from the table and apologize to the waiter?
Why do I follow him outside and into his car?
Why do I stay?
Silence grows between us as he drives down Eden’s paved paths but I’m afraid to say anything else.
“I will make you understand.”
I have no idea what that means.
Sinking into my seat, I'm about to give up on this before his hand falls to my thigh.
My body tenses but he keeps his eyes on the road, "Bad Blood" by Nao bumping on his stereo. He pulls my thigh open towards him. When I pull back, he pulls with more force. “Since you cut breakfast short, I’m still starving.”
A smile twitches at my lip, but I try to keep a straight face, my mind and body fighting with each other.
It's easy to relax into the leather seat when his fingers climb up my thigh. It only brings back the quick pace of my heart. That warmth in my body.
Beep-beep.
My phone chimes, the alarm on my phone going off. His hand stops as I check it and the words on the screen make me let out a groan.
He glances at me and I glance back but I fold my lips in like I’m afraid to say it.
“What?” he asks anyway. “Why are you doing that thing with your lips? What are you hiding?” My brows furrow. He reads me like a goddamn book. “So you’re not gonna answer me?”
“Why do you have to be such a dick?”
“Why do you have to be so secretive?” he fires back.
“Me?”
“There’s no one else in this car.”
Fuck him. My face heats before the words fly out my mouth. “Drop me at school, I'm seeing Drake.”
The car speeds forward at the mention of his name. “I don’t care. And you shouldn’t either.”
When I close my legs, he pulls them open again. This time his hand lands between them, pressing against the fabric of my thong in the right place. And I hate that I inch forward.
Closing my eyes, I fight that pull. That one that leads me into the abyss. “Isaac, I have to. Especially after Tsang caught me bare-assed in the fashion classroom.”
The speedometer rises as we fly past a sign with the limit. We’re doing more than twenty-five, the needle hitting fifty. “You don’t have to. You want to.”
“Wait, you think I wanna be in a room with him? You think I wanna do that to myself? If you hadn’t left me I wouldn’t be so desperate to save my fucking career!”
“Don’t blame me for your messy life,” he growls, his fingers pulling my panties to the side. “You’re the one that slept with him.” I grip the door handle as his finger slides between my folds, a burst of sparks in my core. “You’re wet for him, is that it? You want his old man dick? Should’ve known you’re as trashy as they say you are.”
My brows lower. “Fuck you!” I push his hand away but he pushes back, plunging his fingers inside me and it feels so fucking good. The more I fight, the harder he pumps into me like our words are fuelling him. “Fuck you, Isaac.” It fuels me too and all I can think right now is how I want more. “As if you haven’t let anyone touch you since we …” I trail off like I’m afraid to admit it even with his fingers inside me. We breeze past another sign but it’s hard to warn him with his thumb against my clit. “Isaac … s-slow down”
“You weren’t saying that last night. Or this morning. But fine.” He slams on the break, my body flying forward as his fingers leave me, the seat wet below me. Then he turns to me, the car stopped. “And no. I haven’t let anyone touch me since we fucked. And that ... that's fucked.”He slams the door when he gets out of the car, silence and a chill taking over me.
Looking around, I’m not sure where we are. What looks like an old warehouse sits ahead of a raggedy trail and I don’t even know if we’re in Eden anymore.
The door doesn’t open when I pull on the handle. So I bang on the window.
He ignores me.
Isaac paces in front of the car, muttering to himself as he pulls out a joint.
“I haven’t let anyone touch me.”
I hate that it warms me to hear it. Why should it matter? This can’t be anything. We can’t be anything.
My phone chimes again. My final reminder for my appointment with Drake.
Do better, Lexi.
I’m not letting him ruin my chances.
Climbing over the console, I reach for the driver's door. It opens.
My phone chimes again before he whips his head to me, standing in the gravelly path. “Is that him?” He storms over to me, grabbing the phone and throwing it to the ground.
My hands come to his chest but as usual, he hardly moves when I push with all my might. “My career is hanging on a thin line. I can’t with this. With you. I need to do what I have to do. Us? This thing? You’re right, I’ve dug myself into a massive hole and if playing by Donovan’s rules is what I need to do—” Then my feet lift off the ground. “Isaac!” I’m swatting at his back, his desperate moves sending me on a whirlwind. I hear what sounds like a car door opening and closing before my back hits cold metal, and my arm is tugged to one side.
I’m on the roof of his car, the sun setting above me as I try to swat at his face. Pushing against his chest, the fight only makes that fire in me roar. The car lowers under his weight as he climbs on top of me. That fire must be inside him too because I can feel his bulge pressing into me.
Something cold tightens around one of my wrists. Then the other. Looking from side to side, he has some kind of car cables tied around my wrists, leading to the mirrors. “This isn’t funny, Isaac.”
“I’m not laughing.” He shrugs.
“Isaac—”
“What does he make you do?” My brows furrow. “Don't play stupid. In your sessions, Goldie. What did I walk in on last time?” He peers down at me while I pull at the cables but they’re too tight. And Lord knows the wrath that’ll happen if I break these mirrors. “You won’t tell me?” He slaps my legs open before he reveals that vibrator.
“What’re you gonna do with—” He slides it between my folds, cold silicone filling me as he pushes it inside. My eyes widen, the buzz between my legs shooting through my body.
“Tell me now?” He smirks.
“Why do you wanna—fuccck.” The vibrations raise, my nails sinking into my palm.
“Do I need a reason?”
“I can’t tell you when I … Geeeezus.” My body raises off the metal, the vibrations making me squirm, tightening my core. I’d say this is one of the hot
test positions I’ve been in but with this kind of conversation, it’s exactly Isaac. Candied torment. Bitter and sweet.
It's everything I love.
“Fuck you.” Fuck him for that.
He walks over to me. “I’m only going to ask you once more. Don’t think I won’t leave this inside you and leave you right here. All I have to do is call a car and you don’t have to tell me anything.”
“Fine!” I try to push myself up on my elbows but these cables are too tight. My back falls to the metal. He lowers the vibrations so I can speak. He keeps his eyes on me and it’s the only thing stopping me from breaking down. “Last time I was there he tried to make me …” I trail off, Isaac’s jaw hardening but he keeps staring at me, waiting for it. “He tried to make me kiss him.”
His fist pounds against the metal, my body bouncing off the hood. Then he’s on top of me, his minty breath in my face. “So you’re willing to let him use you?” His eyes narrow into mine. “Christ, Lexi have some fucking class.”
“What other choice do I have?!” My voice surprises me, making me wonder if I’m as desperate as he is. “I let everyone fucking use me and now, you’re using me too.” Fighting back the tear in my eye is no use. It dribbles down my face.
“And you’re not using me? Or Doctor Dickhead? I see that chart in your room, I see you climbing the Eden hierarchy. Don’t tell me that’s not all for your gain.”
“And keeping me in line isn’t for your gain? You’re on trial for—”
“Say it!” My chin lands in his palm, his fingers pushing into my cheeks. “Fucking say it!”
“Murder!” I scream the word into his face, the clouds darkening the light of the evening sun.
His thumb swipes at the tears on my cheek. “You don’t trust me.”
My next words come out a whisper. “And you don’t trust me.” He steadies his gaze before he leans back, hitting the windshield. Reaching into his blazer, he pulls out another joint. Then he lights it like I’m not strung up to his car like his next victim. “You gonna smoke that before you kill me?”
“I’m not gonna kill you, Lexi,” he chuckles, the ‘x’ in my name sounding smooth, like a seductive snake. He puffs. “But I will kill for those who are loyal to me. The last time I was here, I was doing just that.”